The Collection
by atrashyexperiment
Summary: What if beating the Labyrinth wasn't all that great of an accomplishment....What would an apathetic Goblin King do with all the winners?....one shot


**The Collection**

"Jareth, get off of my lap."

The small cat bounded to the floor, it's long tail flicking back and forth rhythmically as he sauntered off into the shadows.

Sarah returned to reading her book, the smooth leather bound edges grasped in her palms as she lay curled against the thick cushions of an overly large wingback chair. The fire cast a warm glow over the ancient pages–making them appear as liquid gold wrapped in a thick binding of black skin.

Slowly the tips of her fingers trailed over the surface of the page to the edge. She paused in her movements as she finished the last sentence and then the light rasping of the page scraping against her skin filled the room.

It had been many hours since she had changed for bed and curled up in the chair–where was he?

She looked up at the heavy black mantle set over the hearth–and the gilded clock there. At one time that clock had fairly glowed with magic, but now it just sat there–with it's thirteen hours and it's golden facets.

It was barely five past the thirteenth hour.

She returned her gaze to her book but the light tapping of boots against a stone floor caused a smile to curl over her face.

Sarah had always been plain, and remained to be so. Her face was not overly angled, nor gently curving. It was just an oval,...a very...ordinary...oval. Her eyes were not sparkling, her lips were not full. Her features were not aquiline or seductive. She was just normal everyday Sarah with her oval face, her brown eyes, and her brown hair.

She continued reading as if she could not hear the noise echoing off the walls that surrounded her–all the while the smile was delicately repressed.

A door was pushed open behind her, causing a draft to blow over the fire, the golden light danced merrily before all went still again.

Sarah raised her head a little but didn't turn to face the man standing in her bedroom door, "Jareth?"

The man crossed his arms over his chest, the leather of his jacket creaking ever so slightly in the silence of the room, "Do you address your cat or your lover?"

Sarah smiled, as if thinking of nothing in particular, her face losing its previous warmth, "Which would you prefer my lord?"

The man leaned against the doorframe as he observed what little he could see of her body around the chair. The bend of her elbow, a wisp of dark hair, the bulky fabric of her black robe, "You already know the answer my sweet one, so why do you ask the question?"

She shook her head and looked back to the book she held, "Are you still angry?"

A derisive smile curved over his lips, exposing slightly pointed teeth to her back, "About what my dove?"

Sarah forgot to answer, she turned and faced him, leaning over the arm of the chair...her eyes straining to see through the shadows.

He wore his heavy leather coat over his customary flowing white shirt. His legs were encased in tight black breeches and leather boots, he was almost swallowed by the shadows except that for the white of his shirt and the paleness of his hair–which shone like beacons in the night.

His eyes she could not see so she could not tell if his anger still simmered in his throat or if he had truly forgiven her. "What do you wish to see me for? You have not come to me for weeks, why now?"

He moved forward into the circle of the golden light, "You deliberately disobeyed me."

Sarah could not look at him. Her hopes had been scattered across the floor like so many broken tears, leaving her empty. "Why could you not just tell me that I was nothing to you–why did you force me to this?" She looked about her, "Force me to this state of utter dependence." She looked back to him, a spark of tragic anger flickering over her face, "Dependence on you."

He shook his head at her, as he would have done to a disobedient dog, "Why do ask questions that you already have the answers to?"

Tears glistened over her face, "Am I to join your harem soon? Be one of your whores?"

He smiled again, stepping forward so that he stood next to her. He lifted her face up to him with a finger–causing her to crane her neck so that his finger did not bite into the tender flesh, "Yes my dear, you will be my latest addition."

Sarah turned her head so that his finger was dislodged. She turned and stared pensively into the flames, "Why do you do this? Am I so displeasing?"

He stroked a hand over the smooth surface of her hair, "You were very pleasing my dove–for a time, and soon enough you will be again, all of you will have your turn–you always do."

He let his fingers trail through her hair. The girls were always the interesting ones, the boys tended to bore him–so little substance. Of course they all had their allure.

He would seduce them, love them, and then lock them away. He was very proud of his collection–she would make a wonderful addition, he was becoming so tired of his other brunette.

His fingers played through the long strands, pulling them away from her face, "You may take your cat with you, I believe Claudia also named her cat after me–they will make a fine pair..." He chuckled to himself before he raised his hand aloft, producing a crystal. He placed it gently on her crown and then she was gone.

Jareth looked about the room, Sarah had brought little with her so there were no other things to clean out before he brought in his next conquest. She had lasted longer then most–the virgins usually did. But she had left the room without his permission a fortnight ago and stumbled upon his private courtyard and born witness to his most priced collection of those who beat his Labyrinth. And when he had come to her she had cried, resisted his advances.

Stupid girl. Even after witnessing it she had not understood. He shook his head as he felt the long tail of the cat curl around his leg. He bent down gracefully and lifted it to his arms, stroking the soft ginger fur over it's shoulders. Good entertainment was so hard to come by, his toys seemed to break so quickly.

He walked off down the hallway, "Me...The Goblin King?...the tragic lover?...hah!" he stroked his hand over the back of the cat, it was fun to be the villain–it really was...but it was even better when no one seemed to realize it.


End file.
